Bloom
by Kaleyanne
Summary: So many possibilities, so many situations Sora and Mimi could land themselves in. [100 shorts. Shoujo ai, Mira.]
1. I Wish

_This will be a collection of one hundred, probably unrelated, drabbles and short fics featuring the Mira pairing, written for the OTP 100 challenge on LiveJournal. So this is your warning: varying amounts of _shoujo ai_ ahead.  
'When I wish upon a star, I throw my pride to the wind,' is a translation of 'hoshi ni negai o, kaze ni puraido,' the first line of '_I Wish_.' I played with it a little so that it sounds more lyrical and to get the nuances I wanted. Aside from being Digimon Adventure's first ending song, it is also the song Mimi sings in the Japanese version of '_Princess Karaoke.'

Prompt: Singer  
_I Wish_

'_When I wish upon a star, I throw my pride to the wind'_ is the first line of the song. It's what she sang every time she could be coaxed onto the Gekomon's stage. But she never thought about it until now. Not until a hazy vision of Sora—everything strong and loving and good—appeared and helped her realize how spoiled she was being, how awful she was for manipulating the Gekomon and Otamamon, for locking her friends away.

The water isn't calm, but it isn't really rough, either. The swan-shaped boat is being rocked by the waves, and it's rocking her, and usually Mimi would let it lull her to sleep. But she can't. She's not afraid she'll fall off and drown; she knows how loud she can scream, and that as soon as she does, Palmon and the boys will wake up and save her. She thinks maybe she ought to worry about it, as Taichi fully supported Jou when he suggested she crawl inside the boat with them for the night.

She smiled cutely at the suggestion, made an implication and watched bright red fireworks bloom over the boys' faces. She couldn't help giggling at the time, but she is all seriousness now.

'_I throw my pride to the wind_,' is the problem with the song's lyrics, she thinks. Mimi thinks she lied every time she sang the song. She never threw her pride to the wind. She fed it with fancy gourmet foods, wrapped it in white satin and pink chiffon and topped it off with a mass of fluffy curls and a jeweled crown. She used it to beat down on the poor Gekomon and Otamamon, held it above their heads and worked them to the bone with it. Her angelic voice. Her pride in her gift.

The ends of her hair are still curled, and it shames Mimi to look at it. Her actions over the past few months are crashing down around her and it hurts. It hurts to look back and realize what a little dictator she's been. She's wondering how she ever let herself go so far, because she knows, she knows it's wrong to order people around. And… she was awfully selfish about the food and the baths and the clothes.

Her cheeks warm as she remembers the satiny gowns edged with snowy lace and sleek, silky ribbons with a note of longing. Her old cowgirl dress is some dyed cotton blend, and it feels so rough in comparison. Her pride has definitely not been thrown to the wind, as an evil, selfish little bit of her still thinks she deserves to be a princess.

So… Mimi guesses she has to control that evil, selfish little bit. Or eradicate it, if she can. Erase her selfishness, truly throw her pride to the wind, wish upon a star that she'll stop being a spoiled little princess and grow up and be strong and loving and good to everyone.

She remembers waking up after a nightmare, wrapped in silk bed sheets (_don't think about that_!), lying on a soft, downy mattress (_as opposed to a bumpy, plastic swan—oh, I have to stop being so selfish_!). She remembers pale light filtering in from the tall window. A girl emerging from her sleepy haze, awash in moonlight, eyes gentle and concerned.

She remembers how sweetly Sora spoke to her, encouraged her, and didn't judge. How Sora took her hand. Mimi wonders if she dozed off as Sora held her hand and whispered to her, because she next remembers the crest glowing, soft and pale green, mingling with the moonlight, overpowering it. Her eyes opening, seeing no sign of Sora's visit except the midnight breeze stirring the curtains of a window she thought she closed.

The teardrop glyph burns in her mind and a real teardrop falls into the water. Surely Sora threw her pride to the wind long ago. Sora doesn't have to wish to be good and loving; she's everything she ought to be.

Mimi pulls the pendant, the crest, out from under her dress, holds it up to be framed by the moon and stars. Not for the first time, she wonders if the glyphs—Taichi's burning sun, Jou's glowing cross—mean anything.

She wonders if the green teardrop is pride. She thought she was releasing all of her pride on stage, right before she sang her song. She felt overwhelmed, she cried, she felt like anything resembling pride or selfishness must have run down her cheeks and sunk into the floor.

Mimi frowns all of a sudden, her contemplation of wishing and pride and tears interrupted. There is something fast and fiery red flying through the sky. It skims the clouds, so it can't be a star… Mimi is too sleepy now to make the connection. It's pretty and it makes her feel safe.

It briefly obscures the brightest star, and then fades out of sight. Whether it's altitude or distance, Mimi can't tell. She simply smiles at bright blue star and in a shining moment of clarity, she wishes she didn't have to wish to throw her pride to the wind.

She lets the crest fall back against her breast, it hurts a little but she thinks she deserves it, and she is too tired to care. She sighs, she thinks she'll take the boys up on their offer and cuddle up between them. Palmon already has.

A strong gust of wind throws her slightly off-balance as she crawls down the side of the boat. Mimi yelps as she falls backwards, but as she predicted, the others awaken.

They catch her around the waist, but not before the end of her ponytail is submerged, rinsing away her curls.


	2. Miyako in the Middle

Prompt: Sister  
_Miyako in the Middle_

Miyako was being crushed. Crushed in a giggly, sexy hug by Sora (the giggly part) and Mimi (the sexy part). Though, as she squirmed in between them, feeling Sora's tight stomach and warm hands, feeling Mimi's lips against her ear, trying to understand her words through her rampant giggling, they could be very interchangeable.

The three girls broke apart, all smiling widely. Except Sora and Mimi immediately snapped back together, Sora's tanned and toned arms slipping around Mimi's impossibly thin, movie model waist. Sora's forehead rested against Mimi's fluffy mounds of bubblegum and magenta hair. It was a sweet sight, and Miyako felt her knees weakening as Mimi giggled and twisted her neck backwards to kiss Sora down her neck.

Miyako guessed Sora was ticklish, since the giggling became frantic and she tried to push Mimi back. But her fantasy sister grinned at Miyako and Miyako got the message: push Sora back against the pillows, hold her down for me. So Miyako smiled wickedly and tackled Sora (and knocked Mimi into a stuffed bunny rabbit, which was promptly slapped across Miyako's back).

Sora let herself be tackled (there was no denying she could throw Miyako across the room if she so desired) and hugged Miyako again. Mimi then fell on top of them, and Miyako and Sora both groaned. Taking it as an attack on her weight, Mimi bounced a little before hugging Miyako again from the back.

And despite the impure thoughts running through her head about her role models, her predecessors, the two girls she admired and who were already very devoted to each other, Miyako was warm and happy for the first time all day, cuddled and kissed by her almost-sisters.

She should break up with her boyfriend every day.


	3. Glass

Prompt: Wine  
_Glass_

Burgundy stains dotted the white satin bed sheets. A half-filled glass of the same burgundy liquid sat on the bedside table undisturbed, while the shattered fragments of its twin glittered on the floor. They caught the moonlight and reflected it; bursts of light speckled the darkened wallpaper.

Even in the dead of winter, Sora's hands were warm. They unfastened the pearly buttons of Mimi's lacy nightgown clumsily. Sora kissed Mimi's neck, eased her against the white satin bedclothes. Slid the nightgown away, slid her warm hands down Mimi's sides, rested them at her hips.

Sora's visit was unexpected, but _so_ welcome. Mimi's own scheming mind had just enough time to work out that it was planned. It had to be; one couldn't go from Tokyo to Manhattan on a mere whim.

Mimi smirked, and she said out loud that this isn't completely unexpected. She lifted her own back off the bed and let Sora embrace her properly. "This isn't the first time you've broken into my bedroom."

And Sora laughed against her neck, and it tickled just a little. "This time, I get to have my fun, though," she whispered. "Last time, I could only hold your hand."

"Last time, I didn't have any wine, either," Mimi mused. Sora's shirt was really very lovely, by one of Mimi's favorite designers, pale yellow with a scooped neck… but it had to go.

"We're going to be miserable in the morning." Sora generously slid her own shirt off, saving Mimi the effort.

Mimi pointed impishly to the half-full glass. "Maybe you will be."


	4. To Sora

Prompt: Birthday  
_To Sora_

There was a postcard on the table.

There was a package near the bedroom door. The tag read "To Sora, Love, Yamato and Takeru," in Takeru's handwriting. The box was doubly wrapped, in plain brown for mailing purposes and pale yellow beneath. A white bow was stuck on top, near a doodle of Sora in between the brothers, holding their hands. Also Takeru's handiwork. It was sweet and made her smile upon receiving it—until she noticed Takeru and Yamato's frowns and speech bubbles. They would miss her party.

There was a postcard on the table.

There was a card on her pillow. Chosen with care, it had nothing pink or feathery on it. Nothing to remind her of fire or phoenixes. And nothing floral, nothing overly feminine, but it wasn't boyish, either. It was somewhere in the middle, just right. The way Sora liked it. It had a sweet rhyme printed inside about how the good things change, but the best do not. Written beneath, in very hurried, 'I'm-stressed-and-I-forgot' handwriting, was an apology for missing her birthday party, but promising to see her and take her shopping for a proper gift soon. "Love, Jou."

There was a postcard on the table.

There was an e-mail open on her palmtop. Koushirou's address printed clearly above the subject line, "Happy Birthday, Sora!" Wishing Sora the best, thinking of her, but going to miss her party. Another package, wrapped in blue paper with creamy water designs, bearing Koushirou's tiny, cramped handwriting, was waiting by the front door for Sora to find and open. "Love, Koushirou."

There was a postcard on the table.

There was a little girl outside her door. She knocked once, twice, three times. She called Sora's name very softly. Usually, Sora couldn't deny Hikari. Loved her like the little sister she never had. She could imagine Hikari in her party dress and hair ribbons, sitting there forever, trying to talk to her. Except Hikari wasn't her little girl anymore, and had stopped knocking. Her footsteps echoed down the hall, towards the genkan, until Sora heard the front door open and close. The only sign she had ever been there was a pink envelope shoved underneath the door, with "Sora Takenouchi" carefully scripted and centered across the front, and "Love, Hikari and Taichi" near the bottom.

There was a postcard on the table.

There was a hairclip on her dresser. A little red and yellow flower. She reached over and knocked it to the ground. Clenched her first. Closed Koushirou's e-mail and checked her inbox again. That idiot Taichi, she thought venomously. Tugged her ski hat over her ears self-consciously. Wondered how she'd ever thought he was anything but a stupid boy, leader or world savior notwithstanding. If he didn't like how she looked, he ought to just say so. Even if it hurt her, and it did hurt. A lot.

But not as much as the postcard on the table.

_I've never seen bluer water or whiter sand. Wish you were here! --Mimi._


	5. Wheel of Fortune

Prompt: Colors  
_Wheel of Fortune_

Circles cut out of construction paper were meticulously arranged around a big piece of white poster board, which sat on Mimi's kitchen table. A pair of scissors sat precariously on the table's edge, waiting for a stir of breeze or a swish of her skirt to knock them to the floor. Supposedly, the bottle of glue was in the drawer Mimi was hunting through, but she was beginning to have her doubts.

She slammed the drawer shut with a loud crash and sighed; it wasn't important. Mimi still had a day before her color wheel project was due. Mama would need the glue for some domestic endeavor later that night and probably find it for her, if she just mentioned it in passing.

Mimi sat down at the table and gazed at her unglued project. At the top was red; then orange into yellow into green into blue into purple and back full circle at red. It was a simple color wheel, just the primary and secondary colors. She had to arrange them properly and then draw lines between opposite, complementary colors.

A pencil lay at her elbow, and she was itching to take it up and draw a stylized heart onto the red circle. Next to the pencil were two extra circles, a pink one and a gray. Neither fit onto her basic color wheel. Pink was a shade of red and gray, depending on who you asked, wasn't technically a color at all.

Both circles were scarred from multiple erasings, until each had a glyph in the center, perfect as best Mimi could remember. A wide, open flower on the pink and a glowing cross on the gray. The back of the red circle was similar, shadowy pencil lines and grooves trying to put that heart in the center, the red heart that used to shine on Sora's chest.

Pencil in hand, she looked critically at her color wheel. The primary and secondary colors looked lonely without pink and gray. Maybe that was her bias, though. Part of her wanted to call Koushirou and ask him if his color wheel looked empty with only six colors when they were used to eight, but the other part of her thought she was being silly. Their art teacher only wanted six colors on their color wheels, and six colors there would be, because Mimi wanted to keep up her high grade in that class.

Still, she cut out the pink and gray and spent several minutes doodling Hikari and Jou's crests into the center. And several more minutes, enough that she had to admit to herself that she might want to measure it in pieces of an hour, etching Sora's Crest of Love onto the red circle, until her cheeks matched and surpassed its hue. Enough that she was asked if she'd been messing in Mama's make-up again.

Sora's Crest of Love, the red circle, now sat proudly at the top of the poster, flanked by Taichi's orange and Koushirou's purple. It made Mimi blush again to place it so prominently, like her art teacher had read her mind and planned the project to embarrass her. Which was impossible… right? Sora told her about this teacher, Sora had art when she was in fifth grade and she never mentioned mind reading… though for the majority of her fifth grade year, Sora wasn't aware mind reading existed. But now Mimi and Sora both knew anything was possible.

Including having a monster crush on a tomboyish mother hen who managed to wear ugly hats and sleeveless turtlenecks and still manage to look great.

The worst part, when her eye drifted down the line, from orange to Takeru's sunshiny yellow to her own green, green like the Crest of Purity. She tapped the pencil eraser against her lips nervously. She tried to tell herself it was because she didn't want to mess up and have eraser marks all over her project, but that was lie. She didn't want to draw the line connecting her green to its opposite, its natural complement.

Red.

If the color of love was red and the color of purity was green, and the embodiment of love of was Sora and the embodiment of purity was Mimi herself, could Sora be Mimi's natural complement? Sora was definitely Mimi's opposite. So they matched very well. Another line connected orange Taichi to blue Yamato, and they certainly complemented each other. Maybe not in the way Mimi wanted Sora to complement her (but she'd settle for a com_pli_ment beyond "You look nice today," which she suspected Sora said out of politeness), though. But maybe they did.

Of course, if her color wheel theory was fully applied, that paired Koushirou with Takeru and either Jou with Hikari, or left them both alone. She wasn't sure if that would work.

"Mimi? Sweetie pie, I'm ho-ooome!"

Mimi glanced towards the door, and smiled brightly. "Welcome home, Mama!" she called, broken out of her wondering.

Mama walked in, rummaging in one of her shopping bags. "I got some of those chocolates I know you like," she said cheerfully, "and some new aftershave for Papa, because you know he was running out. Oh, and I got some glitter for your project!"

Mimi glanced at the project. "I'm not sure my teacher wants glitter…" she trailed off apologetically.

"Oh." Mama didn't lose her smile. "Well, we'll do something with it ourselves, then, won't we, princess? Maybe decorate the invitations to your birthday party?"

"Sounds perfect." Mimi sketched the lines between purple and yellow, and blue and orange.

"Ooh, you'll need this, dolly." Mama held up a new bottle of glue. "I accidentally used it up last night," she said sheepishly. "I forgot to tell you. I hope you didn't wear yourself out looking for more."

"No, Mama," Mimi said. There still was no line between red and green, love and purity.

"Oh, and I forgot to charge my cell phone, so I borrowed yours. There's a voicemail on it from Sora. I didn't listen to it, though, I promise." She shifted the bags in her arms so she could cross her heart.

Mimi giggled and got up to take the bag with the chocolates, suddenly feeling lighter. "I believe you… maybe I can draw the lines between the opposites in glitter," she added thoughtfully. "Teacher never said I couldn't!"

"That's the spirit, angel!" Mama tied on her apron. "Now, do you want to call Sora back before you finish your homework? It's not polite to keep your friend waiting."

"Well, let me get one thing done…" She carefully, painstakingly, sketched the line from green to red, purity to love.

But not Mimi to Sora. The phone line would take care of that.


	6. Thirst

_I giggled to myself when I saw this prompt. I should note that Mimi is the character on the show most like me--or rather, how I wish I could be. She says the things I would think in her position, butI'd avoid saying to keep people from thinking I'm spoiled or bratty. I take pleasure from writing from her biased POV or writing about how spoiled and disagreeable she is from someone else's.  
_

Prompt: Cactus_  
Thirst_

"Why have we never tried that old cactus thing?" Mimi wondered, stopping in her tracks. "Tell me, somebody."

Sora pulled off her hat and stopped next to Mimi, letting the boys amble on past. None of them even acknowledged Mimi's question, as per usual. So Sora suppressed her sigh, smiled her 'patient' smile and asked, "What old cactus thing?"

"That _thing_," Mimi said, as if that explained everything. "You know, they always say there's water in a cactus? You cut it open and water is supposed to come gushing out!"

"Sounds painful for the cactus," Piyomon chirped.

Palmon winced. "You wouldn't cut me open for water, would you?"

"Of course not!" Mimi shook her head emphatically. "Togemon's really just cactus shaped, I think, I mean a real cactus wouldn't have eyes or a mouth or boxing gloves, right? But we're in the middle of a desert, for heaven's sake, and our water supply is stupidly low."

"Because you keep drinking more than your ration!" Jou yelled from a few feet ahead. He didn't even bother turning around.

Mimi stuck her tongue out at his back. "Well, I'm still thirsty!" she snapped.

"We're all thirsty," Sora said gently, wrapping an around the ten-year-old's shoulders. "And you're right, the ration's too little, but like you said, the amount of water we have is painfully finite. And we wouldn't have any at all if Jou hadn't had the foresight to fill a few bottles before we left the forest."

Mimi wriggled free and tapped her foot in the sand. "So? Why haven't we tried the cactus thing?" the girl asked impatiently.

This time, Koushirou answered, and he did turn around.

"Mimi, do you see a cactus?"

"Have you seen a cactus," Jou added, "since you found your crest?"

"And would you please shut up?" Yamato.

Mimi blushed. The boys took that as their cue; they turned back around and continued the trudge through Etemon's desert.

Sora put her hat back on and sighed. "It was a good idea," she said consolingly.

"Thanks, Sora." This time, Mimi hugged her. Briefly, because the sun was crushing them like a block of cement. "You and Palmon and Piyomon are the only ones who listen to me."

"Well, girls stick together, right? And like I said, it was a good idea… next time we find a cactus, we'll try it."

Mimi smiled. "So everyone will see that I'm right?"

"Maybe." Knowing Mimi, Sora wasn't going to promise anything. "I bet Jou has some kind of knife with the emergency supplies."

"It'll have to be a big one," Mimi mused. "Big and sharp, 'cause cactuses are thick."

"Cacti," Sora corrected gently.

"What?"

"…Never mind. How big a hole do you think we'd have to make?"

Mimi twisted a lock of hair around her finger thoughtfully. "Really big, like a few feet, and really deep, so we can get lots of water at once…"

Behind the girls, Palmon shuddered.


	7. Coming Back

Prompt: Rebirth  
_Coming Back_

"She's not coming," Sora whispered.

Softly spoken, but loudly thought; the words crashed in her mind like cannon fire. Her heartbeat oddly sped up. Why should her heart speed up? Why should it beat at all? Piyomon wasn't coming back…

The egg fall was over and the one splashed with hearts she would recognize from her shadow viewing of the past was gone. Elecmon and all the babies looked; Mimi ran through the Village, sweating, hair tangling, legs nearly giving out, and arms encircling her.

"Next time," Mimi murmured against Sora's neck, choking on muted tears. Palmon was still running through the field of digieggs, looking for one they might have missed. But it wasn't possible. Sora would know. She knew she would know.

Piyomon wasn't coming back. Wasn't being reborn. Maybe when she realized that, Sora would cry on the shoulder Mimi was offering her, but currently the shock was too great.


	8. Life Support

_I've had this one a while now, and it's not very good, but it's something, right? Right. Our favorite senpai is going to feature in another Bloom ficbit to make up for how bad this one is. And my apologies to Sora fans--I don't know why bad things keep happening to her in these things!_ _First Mimi forgets her birthday, then Piyomon dies permanently, now this? Sorry, Sora!  
Still have some ideas, though most of them are vague. Don't lose hope. (Pay no attention to my unfinished chapter fics behind the curtain!)  
PS: If I don't write anything new before August first, happy Odaiba Memorial Day, everybody! Even now, the adventure evolves!_  
Prompt: Hospital  
_Life Support_

The sterility was blinding, deafening. She clutched at Palmon, scooped her up and held her close like a cherished baby doll. Mimi officially decided, right then and there: she hated hospitals. When she was a little girl in the Digital World, when she used to help Jou patch up all the victims of the Dark Masters they could find, and he would tell her that she would make a good nurse, she never imagined the cold sterility of the hospital around her. The walls were white; the light from the ceiling was white and bright. Disinfectant stung at her nose.

She used to push him a little, when he would mention he wasn't sure he wanted to be a doctor, she would remind Jou that he was good at it. She told him not to let his father pressure him into it, but not to let his brothers pressure him _out_ of it either. He liked to complain that his pursuing a medical career was all her fault, but that was Jou. He liked to complain, and she couldn't fault him for it. It was a useful coping mechanism.

She shifted Palmon under one arm and took Jou's elbow, swathed in a white lab coat, white and sterile, just like the rest of the place.

"Did I doom you to all of this?" she muttered. Stopping their trek.

He turned around and started to smile, but it stopped. Stopped sort of on the verge, like he wanted to smile, but wasn't sure if it was appropriate. "It's not so bad, once you're used to it," he answered softly. "And I've had my whole life to get used to it."

"Deprived child!" Mimi giggled nervously. "I don't fit in here at all."

"I'll thank you not to advertise the fact. I could get in trouble for bringing you back here. It's supposed to be family-only."

"So how are you getting away with it?" Palmon wondered.

"My dad is chief of service, I'm a medical student," said Jou. "And—now, anyway—everyone knows the Takenouchis are friends of ours. So they're bending the rules for us."

"And shattering them for Shuu and Jun?" Palmon asked.

Jou nodded briefly.

Mimi linked her arm fully with Jou's. She felt like she needed an ally against the frigid, blinding white. Even if he was tainted and taken in by the enemy—this was ridiculous. His arm slipped around her in a friendly hug and even though he felt cold, it warmed her a bit. Jou didn't like hugs. Exactly three individuals could hug him without him shrinking back and feeling uncomfortable, and Mimi liked the feeling it gave her to be one of the three.

"How'd you hear about it?" Mimi asked quietly. She guessed Jou had forgotten about no one noticing her, because his arm was still around her, very gently steering her.

"Dad," he said flatly. His voice got that dull, clinical tone—the doctor voice, Mimi called it. When he talked and didn't listen to himself. "He was talking to the guy on duty in the O.R. He called Professor Takenouchi, broke it to him, and then he called me. Would I tell her myself, or did I want him to do it?"

"And you did?" Palmon reached out and patted Jou on the arm.

"It'd only be right," he said heavily. "Also why I'm letting you in here."

"And why you're paying my airfare back?" Because Mimi dropped everything and missed the flight home when she heard Sora's mother had nearly been killed. She slipped out of the hug, let Palmon down and took one of his hands. Ice cold.

"Don't press your luck." He squeezed her hand before letting go, letting her walk on her own.

Chilled silence. Fluorescent lighting, bright as sunshine. Was it to remind the patients of the sun? Did the doctors want to encourage their wards, remind them they could recover and see the sun shine again? Or was it a trick, were they taunting them? Teasing them and tempting them, rubbing it in their faces that they were trapped in artificially lit, bleach-clean rooms. Mimi could smell cleanser, almost feel death.

She and Palmon were now walking on either side of Jou. She took his hand again, between both of hers, absently trying to warm it. Jou was beyond nervous and scared, he wasn't talking anymore. Which Mimi couldn't stand, she needed words and noise or she started to think, and that wasn't going to be pretty.

She could hit only one topic of conversation, though.

"How'd it happen?"

"Robbery in progress, it seems Mrs. Takenouchi had a very valuable antique… something, I'm blurry on the details. I didn't talk to the police." Fast and concise, just like a doctor.

"Why not?"

"There isn't much I can tell them," he answered.

"You have to know something." Palmon took his other hand in hers.

Jou sighed tiredly. He was taking this hard. "I know plenty—all of which the cops could hear from someone else."

Both girl and Digimon squeezed his hands. "Make you feel better to tell us?"

"We need to know, anyway," Palmon said. "I want to know. And we can handle it. I bet I've seen worse."

"I'll take that bet," Jou said grimly. "This isn't Leomon. Leomon was hurt bad, he looked like hell, but… at least it ended. He got to die quickly."

Mimi poked Jou in the arm. "You did not just say you wanted Mrs. Takenouchi to die."

"Of course not!" He looked ill. "And she's got a chance to recover. One of her flower arranging students came in, luckily with her boyfriend, scared the guy off before he could kill her."

Palmon hit him on the back. Hard. "Did you just say that girls can't fight?" she asked, sounding insulted.

"Hell no." Inexplicably, a smile edged itself onto Jou's face, even while he rubbed the welt Palmon gave him. Tentative and hesitant, grim and unhappy, but undeniably—_proud_. "She fought back. Hard, by the look of it."

Mimi felt that pride swell up in her own chest, but she couldn't smile. Almost like it was her own mother who had resisted, who had been strong. It didn't surprise her. Two truths of the Chosen Children were that they all valued a fighter, someone who stood up and did things their own way no matter what, and that after roughly a year of nothing except each other, fighting together, they shared everything. Including their families. "By the look of what?"

"Some of her injuries are defensive—her arms are cut up, I mean, like she was blocking blows or trying to land a few herself." Jou's hand convulsed slightly. "And beneath her nails. She scratched him."

"I hope she hurt him," Palmon said softly. Mimi winced.

"Oh, she did," Jou muttered. "Usually, you scratch someone like that, all they find beneath the nails are skin cells. That wasn't the case here. There was blood."

"Blood?" Mimi shuddered. Proud of Mrs. Takenouchi for fighting back when she had to, but still not liking the idea of someone else hurt.

"Preliminary tests excluded it being her blood, too. Not her type. And that's not all."

"Am I going to regret hearing this?" Mimi asked.

Jou shrugged. "I don't know. But they found a folding chair at the scene. With blood on it. A lot of blood. Same type as the blood under Sora's mom's nails."

"She whacked the guy with a folding chair?" Mimi felt faint, imagining it. Sora's ladylike, traditional mother picking up a folding chair…

"Of course she did," Palmon said firmly. "We're talking about the woman who infiltrated Vamdemon's army and was willing to fight off the Bakemon all by herself."

"A _metal_ folding chair," Jou added. "Got him right in the head."

"And how do you know that? Did she tell you?" Mimi was skeptical.

"Didn't have to—there was a hair caught in one of the screws. Inconsistent with family members, but very consistent with what the witnesses said the bad guy looked like." Jou's voice lost the clinical doctor quality, shifting into simple anger. "They haven't compared the DNA yet, so we don't know for sure, but I'd put down serious money that if they find the would-be thief soon enough, he'll have some very interesting injuries to explain away."

"Like a bright red arrow pointing at him," Palmon said. "With a sign that says, 'Come get me, I did it.'"

"Better hope Birdramon doesn't find him first, huh?" Jou slipped ahead of the girls, starting to walk a bit quicker. Almost fading, with his white lab coat, into the blinding fluorescent lights and bleach-white walls.

"Oh yes," Palmon agreed. "As much as I like Piyomon, I don't like her at all when she's upset."

"Piyomon's taking it pretty hard," Jou remarked. "Not that I blame her, she's gotten close to Sora's mom."

"How much further is it? I mean, where Sora and her dad are waiting."

"Not too much, just at the end of this hall," Jou replied. "Dad and Shuu are with the professor. Mom's trying to get a hold of Sora's relatives in Kyoto to tell them what happened."

Mimi felt a jolt like lightening, she grabbed Jou's arm and yanked it so hard she thought she'd pull it out of the socket. Which was good. It was what she had been aiming for.

"So who, pray tell, is with Sora?"

"Piyomon," he answered, rubbing his shoulder and giving her an annoyed look, but he didn't get too mad. "And before you bite my head off—Jun's with her, too. And Gomamon."

At that, Mimi could manage a tiny smile. "I wondered."

"Even though I know you two would rather be together in a time like this." Mimi scooped her partner up again as Palmon spoke.

"Yeah, well, time like this, I figure she needs him more than I do." He let go of his shoulder. "I was with her, too, except I had to borrow my brother's car and get you girls from the airport."

"And we appreciate it!" Palmon said.

"I was glad to," he assured her. "Jun's a nice girl, but I think you can comfort Sora a lot better."

Mimi frowned. "You think?" she asked. "I'm not so good at grief counseling."

"I think you've grieved a lot more in life than Jun has," Jou said seriously. "And Sora listens to you."

Mimi snorted. "Right. You don't even listen to me."

Jou pointed to his lab coat. "I don't?"

"That doesn't count, that was listening to your dad," Mimi said, being argumentative, even though she knew better.

"Well, whatever," and that grim, unhappy smile appeared again. "It's not like you won't try, once you get in there. You love Sora."

Mimi stuck her tongue out at him. She couldn't think of anything else to do. He was right, anyway.

"Tell me again why the police didn't want to talk to you, Jou," Palmon said suddenly. "You seem to know a lot."

"I told you." He raised his eyebrows at Palmon. "I'm not exactly a primary source. Mine is a third-hand account."

Mimi poked him. "Who was second?"

Jou looked away very quickly; the girls exchanged smirks.

"You had Gomamon eavesdrop on the investigation," Mimi accused, pointing a gold-ringed finger straight at Jou's chest.

Jou held his hands up. "They used an empty waiting room, it was a slow night," he said defensively. "So if a toy seal sits in the corner, silent, not moving… This is Sora's mom, come on."

"How sneaky!" Palmon exclaimed. She definitely approved. "I didn't know you had it in you."

Mimi nodded, managing an actual, untainted smile for her older friend. "Gomamon, sure, but Mr. Responsible-by-the-book-in-all-things?"

"Very funny, girls," Jou mumbled, his walk slowing. Mimi swallowed roughly, guessing what he was doing. Stalling. Beginning to allow her time to get her act together, make her plan, put on her brave face for Sora.

She chose to dawdle a little more, first.

Honestly, who the heck was he fooling? Mimi had absolutely no clue what she was going to do. Mimi grieved by crying and leaving the group for peace and parts unknown. Sora had comforted her. Jou, Palmon and Gomamon had protected her. Older than Takeru and Hikari, Mimi was still placed firmly in the 'younger Chosen' category prior to 2002.

Sora was more dignified in her times of need… well, usually. If she could trace a fault back to herself, she was as irrational as Mimi. But if Sora could find any viable way to claim responsibility for this, Mimi was going to have to knock some good old-fashioned sense into her.

About all Mimi could truly envision herself doing was running to Sora and sweeping her up into the tightest embrace she could muster. Inadequate, yes, but it was going to have to do, unless some Deus ex Machina chose now to make her their divine instrument. Which would be nice, but highly unlikely.

Jou was well ahead of her now and pushing open the door. Sora was immediately visible, still and silent as a statue. Jun Motomiya had a gentle hand on her shoulder and Piyomon in her lap, while Gomamon was hanging from Sora's neck and petting her hair.

Sora's eyes were dull. Jun may have been talking, but Mimi was too focused on Sora's stiff shoulders and the way she stared at an empty bit of bleach-white wall across the room to really notice. Her gaze was unfocused and unrelenting; the lack of movement, of cheer and goodwill was unnerving. Her athlete's tan looked vapid in the fluorescent lighting; curse their evil for turning Sora's naturally healthy glow into a sickening mockery of itself.

Suffice to say—she wasn't doing well. And Mimi doubted the merit of her vague strategy.

Of course, in the face of her Sora's misery, who was Mimi to worry about inadequacy? Sora needed her.


	9. Soar

Prompt: Fly  
_Soar_

It was a split second freefall; she forced herself onto the railing and she _leapt_. She _soared_. It would have been any normal girl's death, but with her mother and Mimi's screams echoing like thunder in her ears, piercing, and the chilling, sickening feeling that she was turning her back on them, even without Birdramon there to catch her, she would soar. She had to.

So she did. She leapt from the balcony railing, reached for Birdramon's ankle and thankfully caught it. She looked back, only to see Mimi chased by Bakemon as she rushed to Sora's mother. Seeing them overpowered and forced back into imprisonment was almost more than Sora could bear. Mimi was only ten years old, still an innocent, impressionable little girl. Still in need of guidance. It wasn't right that she was here at all, but then, it wasn't right that anyone was. But least of all, a sweet innocent like Mimi.

She screamed back, would have screamed until her throat was ripped and raw, aching, until her voice was hoarse and then completely gone, would it have done any good. She contented herself with screaming for them, that she would be back, screaming with tears burning in her eyes, holding onto Birdramon for dear life. Seeing Lilymon lay lifeless as a worn-out rag doll, imagining she could hear the echoes of Mimi screaming long after it was possible to do so, lamenting that she finally makes some measure of peace with her mother and it is ruined—but she had to be strong. Crying wasn't going to save her mother and Mimi and Lilymon.

Lilymon's incapacitation was a knife in her heart, because she knew it was a knife in Mimi's. Worse. She remembered how carelessly Palmon was tossed up into the camp bus's overheard cargo hold, while Mimi chatted with her confused fourth-grade friends, and the other Chosen Children and Digimon all sat together. No doubt Mimi remembered it, too. No doubt she felt terrible.

And Sora had no idea what to do for Lilymon. She thought and she thought, as Birdramon soared over the stricken, man-made island in Tokyo Bay, but Vamdemon's attack… he'd never landed it before (with her mind so jumbled, she couldn't even be sure she ever saw him use it). All she could come up with was 'take her to Jou, didn't he say his father was a doctor once…?' But what could Jou know about Vamdemon's attack that she didn't? What was there to know?

She could hear Lilymon breathing, though, and that had to be some kind of good sign. Something to latch onto. So long as she could restore Lilymon, Lilymon would never let Mimi down. Just as Birdramon would never let Sora down.

Just as Sora knew she couldn't let Mimi down.

"Birdramon, keep your eyes open," she said forcefully, fiercely glad her voice was steady and not choked with tears. She tore her eyes from the stricken Lilymon and shifted them towards the ground. "We need to be on the lookout for any of our friends."

"I'm looking, Sora," Birdramon said, the fear Sora felt ringing clearly in her voice. "I'm looking very carefully. Just hang on tight!"

"Yes," Sora muttered. Sparing one last glance at Lilymon, and then tuning her eyes for any sight of Taichi and Agumon, Jou and Gomamon, Yamato and Gabumon, and gripping Birdramon's ankle with all her strength. "I'm holding on."

_Just you hold on, Mother, Mimi-chan. I'll find the others and cure Lilymon, and then we really will_ soar.


End file.
